


Mama Knows Best

by Wizard_of_Ozzie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fish loves being mother hen and knows what her little bird needs, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-22 21:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14317623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizard_of_Ozzie/pseuds/Wizard_of_Ozzie
Summary: What if Fish Mooney never died?  What if Ed was never frozen?  What if Gotham City and its big conglomerates ponied up and paid Oswald and Fish a king's ransom for the Tetch virus cure.  What if they ruled Gotham's underworld together? If you’re wondering, that’s the story this fic will tell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the story no one wants, but me. So, whether it continues is up to you.

Fish was on the couch in Oswald’s living room.  She was laying on her side, her elbow propped up on the armrest, every curve and contour of her fit, toned body displayed by her skintight jumpsuit.  She looked across the room and gazed at Oswald, sitting in a wingback chair, holding a glass of fine cognac in his hand.

“Well Oswald, the world is our oyster.  We are rich beyond our wildest dreams.  We run the preeminent crime family in Gotham.  What mountain shall we conquer now?” Fish asked, her voice deep, smooth, and silky.

“I have one priority.” Oswald answered immediately, without a second thought.  “To see Edward Nygma dead.”

“Yes, I do recall you mentioning that a few times before.” Fish said sarcastically.  Oswald had mentioned it  many times, each and every day, since Fish rescued him from the greenhouse.  “I do admire your single mindedness, but I also have a question.  Why do you want him dead?”

“Oh Fish, if I told you every reason, neither one of us would get any sleep tonight.  Suffice to say, he shot me and threw me into the river to die.  If that does not merit his death, what does?”

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with him breaking your heart?” Fish teased softly.  Oswald’s eyes narrowed, flashing fire, as his lips disappeared into a thin line. 

“Does it matter?” He snapped.  He lifted his drink to his lips, draining the glass.  He slammed the glass down on the table next to him.  Fish gave him a knowing smile.

“Aaah, I remember my first love.  He broke my heart and my front tooth.  Thank God for veneers.” Fish said with a chuckle.  “Last I heard he was in Blackgate, doing forty to life.”

“Blackgate’s too good for Ed.” Oswald sneered.  “I want him dead.”

“If it is your wish, it shall be done.”  Fish said, solemnly.  “But I was wondering, could I have a little fun with him first?”

“W—WHAT?” Oswald sputtered, his eyes bulging from their sockets.

“Whoa, I’m not talking about fucking him.  I said I would be having fun, not him.” Fish said with a hearty laugh.  “But I must say, your reaction speaks volumes.”

“What exactly **_are_** you talking about?” Oswald asked, a crease forming in his brow.

“Mmm, I don’t know.  Let me sleep on it and we can discuss it in the morning.” Fish stood up, taking a long languorous stretch.  She walked over to Oswald, giving his forehead a quick peck.  “Good night Oswald.” She said, turning and walking out of the room.  Oswald grabbed the decanter of cognac and poured himself a stiff drink.  Downing the entire glass in one long gulp.

The following morning…

Oswald walked into the dining room, his mouth falling open as he saw Fish and Butch Gilzean sitting together at the table, drinking coffee.  Both were smiling and engaged in a lively conversation, but looked up in unison, as he entered the room.

“Butch?”  Oswald said, his eyes darting back and forth between the seated pair.

“Hi Oswald.”  Butch said with a tight smile and a wave of his artificial hand. 

“Butch was kind enough to accept my invitation for breakfast.  We have so much to catch up on.”  Fish purred, affectionately placing her hand over Butch’s warm one and giving it a quick squeeze.  “We also have a mutual adversary to discuss—Edward Nygma.”  Butch nodded, gazing over at Fish.  Oswald recognized the warm light in Butch’s eyes.  The big man’s eyes always lit up like that when he looked at Fish.  The two of them had a deep, long-standing connection; which, judging by their current amicable behavior, was still firmly in place.

“Yeah, I tried to warn you that skinny creep was bad news, but I guess it was only a matter of time before he showed his true colors.”  Butch told Oswald, a subtle, I told you so, smirk on his face.

“Well, the way I remember it, the two of you were the best of friends when you were both pointing guns at my head.”  Oswald sneered, his eyes sharp daggers, aimed at Butch.  

“That was business.  That weasel promised us Gotham’s underworld, but now, nearly all the Capos have pledged their loyalty to you and Fish.  So, the way I see it, he welshed on our deal and he’s gonna hafta **_pay_** for that.”  Butch said, leaning forward in his chair and slamming his iron hand to the table with a resounding thud.  Fish smiled approvingly.

”And pay he will!”  Fish agreed, lightly slapping Butch’s thigh.  She turned to Oswald.  “Oswald, please sit.  We have much to discuss.”  She turned her head toward the kitchen, calling out.  “Olga dear, a tea for Oswald please.”  Oswald sat, eyeing the pair and wondering if this was a good or bad thing.  Deep down, he still held fond regards for Butch, but seeing the closeness rekindling between Butch and Fish did give him pause.  Olga walked in carrying a cup of steaming tea and placing it in front of Oswald.

“Good morning Mr. Cobblepot.”  She said, a touch of warmth in her otherwise gruff voice.

“Good morning Olga and thank you.”  He replied, giving her a small smile, as he lifted his cup.  Olga nodded and returned to the kitchen.

“I’d like to make a motion.”  Fish announced, her spoon tapping her china cup.  “That we invite the city’s biggest, baddest enforcer, Butch Gilzean, to be part our team.”  She turned to Oswald, her eyebrows raised.   Oswald wished Fish had raised the issue with him in private first, but she had a point.  Adding Butch to their family would be a huge blow to Barbara and tilt the balance of power indisputably in their favor.  The few Capos, still loyal to Barbara, would come running to pledge their allegiance to Penguin and Fish.

“Motion seconded.”  Oswald affirmed, with a bit more vigor than he actually felt.  They both turned to Butch.

“It would be my honor.”  Butch replied, fondly gazing at Fish.  Oswald reached over and gave the big guy a friendly pat on the back.

“Welcome back, old friend.”  Oswald said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, until Butch returned his smile with a sincere warmth that caught Oswald off guard and harkened back to their better days.  Oswald breathed a silent sigh of relief, thinking.  _Yes, this might be a very good thing._

During their breakfast, plots were hatched, and plans were made.  By nightfall, Edward Nygma was in a 12x10 foot cell, with electrified bars, in the basement of Oswald’s mansion.  He was sitting on a cot wearing nothing but his underwear and socks; his clothes, glasses, and everything else confiscated.  But even without his glasses, Ed had no trouble recognizing the three people standing in front of his cell—Oswald, Fish, and Hugo Strange.

 


	2. Not as Smart as You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is captured and imprisoned, but that's only the beginning of what's in store for him.

Chapter 2

Ed studied his cell, hoping to devise a strategy for his escape.   Three of its walls were solid concrete and floor-to-ceiling electrified bars made up the fourth side of the rectangular area.  The door lock was surrounded by solid metal framing, that prevented reaching the lock from inside the cell, even if the electrified bars lost power.  The 10’ high ceiling appeared to be one seamless sheet of steel, save for a small glass dome, which he assumed was a surveillance camera.  Outside of the bars and ceiling, there was nothing metal to be seen.  His cot was on a hard rubber platform.  The latrine was also molded from rubber.  He was impressed, he’d never seen a rubber toilet before.   Finishing his first cursory inspection of his new accommodations, he sat on his cot, his back supported by the wall behind it.   

He felt like a chimp on display at the zoo, as his captors stood outside his cage talking about him like he wasn’t there.  Nothing irked him more than being treated as if he were insignificant.  He almost wished he had a handful of shit to fling at them, the way he’d seen captive monkeys do.  The thought, conjured an image in his mind of his hot moist poo dripping off Oswald’s long pointed nose.  Struck by how hilarious the look on Oswald’s face would be, he began to snicker darkly.  He pointed at Oswald, as his entire body convulsed in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

All three of his spectators looked at him with a mix of confusion and surprise; when Oswald, oddly feeling as if he were the butt of some secret joke, turned away in a huff and left the cellar.  Oswald wanted Ed dead, but seeing the man appear to descend into madness, troubled him on a level he couldn’t quite articulate, even to himself.  Fish’s plan was to make Ed pay for the months of pain and suffering he’d inflicted on Oswald, by keeping him captive a like number of months.  Oswald would kill him, after he’d served his time.  The plan had initially sounded like fit retribution, but now Oswald doubted it was a good idea.  Every day Ed was held only increased the possibly that he’d figure out a way to escape and Oswald could not let that happen.  He made up his mind that he’d come back, when Ed was alone, and end this once and for all, with a bullet right between those mocking brown eyes.

After Oswald left, Ed’s laughing fit gradually subsided.  It had achieved its intended purpose—getting under Oswald’s skin.  With Oswald gone, he had no interest in providing further entertainment to his remaining onlookers.  He stretched out sideways on his cot, turning his back to them.  Fish turned to Strange, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Now that Oswald’s gone, we can discuss the surprise gift you’ll be creating for him.”  Fish said with a playful smile.  “Do you have everything you need?”

“Oh, this will be a piece of cake.  Harvesting useable DNA from a living specimen is child’s play.  Lord knows I’ve handled far more challenging cloning requests.  Actually, looking at this fellow reminds me of one of my most challenging cases.”  Strange said, staring at the man on the cot.  “It involved a woman, who had been dead for at least a year.  Finding good DNA from the remains of her dismembered, exhumed corpse was tricky to say the least.”

“Did it work?”

“Oh yes, beautifully.  The clone was an exact replica of her source material, too exact for the job, if you ask me.”

“How so?”

“She was designed to infiltrate Mayor Cobblepot’s administration and find dirt the Court could use to control him.  I told Kathryn we should make the clone resemble, rather than perfectly replicate the original, but the most I could get her to agree to was making the redhead a blonde.  I told her they were too sharp to fall for it.  Hell, any fool would find the sudden appearance of a dead woman’s doppelganger suspicious.  She was an exact copy, down to the bird-shaped birthmark on her thigh.  They were on to her in less than two weeks and she ended up dead before she got any useable intel.”

“Ah, so my little bird saw right through the Court’s devious plan.”  Fish stated with a smug smile.

“Obviously, why else would they kill her?  She was perfectly designed to capture the heart of her target.  Sweet, beautiful, pliable, and sexually insatiable, what more can any man ask for?”

“You obviously didn’t do your research.”  Fish jibed.  “What Oswald wants, no _woman_ can provide.” 

“Oh, Oswald wasn’t the target.”  Strange chuckled.  “He was.”  Strange grinned, pointing to Ed.

“Hmm, another puzzle piece clicks into place.”  Fish muttered under her breath.

“Huh, what did you say?”

“Oh, it was nothing, just thinking out loud.”  Fish answered, with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “But I want to hear more about how you’ll make Ed’s clone perfectly suited for Oswald.” Fish said, her beautiful smile oozing with devilish mischief.

“Well, of course the clone will look exactly like him, but I can customize its personality and driving motivations through psychological conditioning.  For example, the clone can be madly in love with Oswald, willing to do anything, even die, for him.  I can also determine the strength of his intellect, make him smarter or dumber. I’d suggest dumber.  That will make it simpler to manipulate.”

“Yes, but not too dumb. I think intelligence is one of his traits that Oswald finds attractive.”

“Normally, I’d ask Oswald what he wants, but since you want my creation to be a surprise gift; I’ll need you to provide the specifications on the clone’s desired traits and temperament.”

“That I can do.”  Fish answered with confidence. “But not tonight.  It’s getting late and I have much to do tomorrow.  Let me show you to your room.  I’m sure you’ll find it comfortable, but if there’s anything else you want, just say the word.”  Fish told Hugo warmly, as she slipped her arm into his and led him upstairs.

Ed lay unmoving on his cot, as he heard their footsteps recede into the distance.  His mind was in turmoil.  _Was their entire conversation a ruse, set up for my benefit? A shrewd form of psychological warfare, designed to make me doubt myself?_ As he contemplated the possibilities, one of Strange’s comments stood out in his mind, bringing back memories of something he’d once thought odd.  Something about Isabella that he chose to ignore, at the time.  The birthmark that resembled a perched bird. 

He’d noticed it on Kristen’s thigh the first time they made love.  _Why didn’t seeing the identical birthmark, in the exact same spot, on Isabella’s leg, set off alarm bells in my head?_   He asked himself, but he already knew the answer.  The bells had gone off, but he refused to heed them.  He desperately wanted Isabella to be the second chance he so deeply longed for.  The chance to have the perfect, normal life his father swore he’d never be able to have.  In his compulsive need to prove his father wrong, he’d ignored the litany of warning signs Isabella presented.  He began counting them off in his head. 

 _She looked exactly like the woman I murdered.  She didn’t care that I’d been sent to Arkham—for killing my last girlfriend, no less.  She liked riddles.  And yes, the dead giveaway any imbecile could see—the birthmark_.  _I tell myself I’m so smart, but I got played for a fool.  Like a total idiot, I destroyed everything precious in my nearly perfect, **better** **than** **normal** , life._  Ed curled up like a ball on his cot, facing the wall.  He hoped his position hid the tears of shame, stinging his eyes, from the overhead camera.

 

 

After assisting in Nygma’s capture and imprisonment, Butch returned to the Siren’s base of operations.  Tabitha was practicing whip tricks when he walked in, but stopped and came to his side, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hi Baby.”  She purred, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Hey.”  He answered, his voice deep and hoarse at her touch.  He looked around the room.  “Where’s Barbara?”

“In her room—packing.  She’s not exactly thrilled with the New World Order.”  Tabitha said pulling a face.  “You’d think she’d be willing to let us call the shots this time.  After all, we let her play queen bee, and everything went to shit.”

“You forget what she is.  A billionaire’s spoiled little girl, used to getting everything handed to her on a silver platter.”  Butch said bitterly, his nose nuzzling Tab’s thick raven locks.  “I should kill her.”  He whispered.

“Every logical bone in my body tells me you’re right, but…”

“Your heart’s not logical.” He stated grimly.  She nodded in reply, her cheek against his chest.  They both looked up, as Barbara came charging out of her room, extra-large roller bag in tow.  She stopped at the front door, her hand on the doorknob.

“Watch your back Tabitha, Butch and Fish go waaay back.  Just don’t be surprised if you’re the next one he kicks to the curb for _her_.”  Barbara sneered, yanking the door open and storming out.  Butch walked over and slammed the door behind her.

“You shoulda let me whack that hateful bitch!”  He snarled.

“She’s just hurting inside and can’t resist the urge to spread her pain around.”  Tabitha said, walking to Butch’s side and gently placing her hand on his chest.

Butch wasn’t comfortable with Tabitha’s lingering feelings for Barbara, but Barbara was gone, and Tabitha was here, with him. _She put me first, and that’s what matters._ He told himself, as bent over and picked her up, bridal style. 

“Let celebrate having this place all to ourselves.”  He said with a sly lopsided grin.

“Does that mean you won’t shush me for getting too loud?” She teased.

“Baby, I plan on making you scream ‘til you’re hoarse.”  He told her in that deep, husky voice she loved.  Tabitha wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her tongue snaking against his, as he carried her to the bedroom.

 

Barbara sat fuming in the backseat car she hired.  She ignored the scenery speeding by her window, one thought on her mind.  _I need to find Nygma.  Together we’ll make those bastards pay!_

 

Ed was still huddled on his cot, facing the wall, when he heard shuffling footsteps approaching _.  I’d recognize that sound anywhere._ He thought, morosely, as the footfalls grew louder and stopped, right in front of his cell.

“Here to gloat, Oswald.”  He croaked, ashamed by the sob that caught in his throat as he spoke.  He refused to face Oswald, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing his wet, red-rimmed eyes.

“No, I’m here to put you out of your misery.”  He replied in a dull flat voice.  He lifted his revolver, cocking the gun, preparing to fire.   Ed, hearing the gun cock, decided he wanted to die on his feet, not curled up on his cot, like a coward.  He stood up and walked toward Oswald.  He stopped a few inches from the bars, facing Oswald and standing directly in line with his raised pistol.

“Go ahead, do it.  I deserve it.”  Ed commanded, straightening his back and holding his head high.

 


	3. She Fooled Us Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Chapter 3

 

Fish woke up after only a couple of hours of sleep.  She’d wanted to fall back to sleep, but she felt too restless.  There was something nagging at her mind—Oswald.  She’d assumed capturing Nygma would lift the melancholy cloud which seemed to hover over her little bird, but alas, it hadn’t.  She wished Oswald was more forthcoming with her about what precipitated their falling out.  But he was reluctant to share all the details.  She found herself doing a lot of reading between the lines. 

Oswald told her Nygma had destroyed his empire and tried to kill him, but she was sure there was more to it than that.  Although those facts alone were more than enough to inspire Oswald’s hate for the man, she sensed hate wasn’t the only emotion he harbored.  Oswald’s reaction to her comment about a broken heart had been telling.  She’d suspected they’d possibly been more than friends and now she was pretty sure she was right.

She’d continued to press Strange about the clone episode with Oswald and Ed, after she took him upstairs.  He’d explained that the woman cloned was Ed’s former girlfriend. They’d hoped that placing a familiar face in his path would pique Ed’s interest and gain them access to the innerworkings of Oswald’s administration, as well as, his clandestine illegal activities.  As Strange outlined the Court’s plan, she couldn’t help but notice how similar it was to the plot she’d hatched against Carmine Falcone.  She’d placed a beautiful woman in his path, too.  One she’d personally trained to remind Carmine of his mother, to gain access to his secrets, and to report back to her.  She found it ironic that the Court’s plan had ended just as miserably as hers.  Their spy, like hers, was discovered and killed.

She’d asked Strange what new plan the Court came up with, after their first had failed.  He said it hadn’t proved necessary, Cobblepot’s administration crashed and burned shortly after the incident.  _Could there have been a connection between the clone event and Oswald’s downfall, at Ed’s hands?_ She wondered _.  Had Oswald cast him out for letting a spy slip into their mist?  Yes, that might explain Ed’s quest for vengeance.  It may also explain Oswald’s melancholy.  After all, there are few emotions more depressing than regret._ She hypothesized.

_This is all wild, baseless speculation._ She told herself, mildly irritated with wasting time on it, when a much better source of information was within her reach—Edward Nygma!  Fish had learned, the hard way, that understanding the feeling and motivations of the people around you were critical to both your success and survival.  She also knew, that the little bee was buzzing around in her bonnet, wouldn’t let her get back to sleep, unless she did something.

 

 

Oswald stood there, his gun aimed at Ed’s head.  He stared at his former friend in confusion.  “What did you say?” Oswald asked, his voice a barely over a whisper.

“Do it!” Ed spat through clenched teeth.

“No, what did you say _after_ that?” Oswald said, a hint of a self-righteous smile playing on his lips, as lowered his gun and walked a step closer to Ed’s cell, cupping a hand to his ear and leaning closer.  Ed, seeing Oswald’s theatrics, had no intention of repeating himself.  When he’d said, ‘I deserve it’, he was expressing his disappointment in himself for failing to see through Isabella’s ruse _._ The words had just popped out of his mouth and now he wished he could take them back.

_Judging by that smug expression on his face, Oswald has obviously misinterpreted my statement as an admission of fault, or worse yet, an apology.   He couldn’t be more wrong._ Ed angrily thought _._ _If only Oswald had respected me and my wishes; I would have eventually seen through Isabella’s deceit and we would still be friends! Blame for this whole mess lies squarely on his selfish, arrogant shoulders. And he’s got the nerve to think **I’m** sorry!  What an ASS!_

Oswald smile had begun to slip, as he watched the storm clouds gathering across Ed’s face.

“Never mind, it wasn’t important.”  Ed snapped.  “Forget I said it.”

“Oh, I should forget that you admitted you deserve to die?”  Oswald asked, one eyebrow raised.  Ed moved closer to the bars.

 “JUST DO IT!  WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!” Ed shouted.  “Can’t stand to kill the man you love?” Ed added with a soft hiss.  Oswald’s eyes flashed with anger, his nostrils flaring, and teeth bared, as he lifted the gun and pointed it at Ed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not waiting any—”  Oswald stopped, turning to the click-clack of stilettos behind him.

“Oswald, sorry to come down unannounced.” Fish drawled, walking closer.  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”  She said, shooting glances at one man, then the other.   Oswald smiled at her.

“No, I’m glad you’re here.  You arrived just in time to see me kill him.”  Oswald said, turning back to Ed, gun raised.   Fish walked up behind him, lightly placing her hand on one of his shoulders and leaning her chin on the other, her lips near his ear.  Ed watched in fascination.  He was unaccustomed to seeing Oswald so comfortable with an invasion of his personal space.  Fish ran her free hand down the length of Oswald’s raised arm, gently grasping his wrist.

“Start with the kneecaps.”  She said softly, slowly shifting Oswald’s arm downward, to point the gun lower.  “He deserves to suffer for his betrayal.  After everything you did for him, this…this slimy viper strikes the hand that feeds him.” Her face wrinkling with disgust, her words thick with venom.  “You deserved better.”

“I DESERVED BETTER!  HE BETRAYED ME!”  Ed shouted with unchecked fury, his face drawing so near the electrified bars that random hairs lifted from his head.  Fish moved from behind Oswald and stared at Ed inquisitively, cocking her head to the side, as she lightly touched Oswald’s gun arm, coaxing it downward.   Oswald sighed, lowering his gun, as Fish moved between them.

“He betrayed _you_?”  Fish spat in disbelief, looking him up and down with a contemptuous flash of her eyes.  She crossed her arms, as she gazed at Ed with a haughty lift of her chin.  “How?”  She challenged, her eyes locking with Ed’s.  Oswald’s breath hitched, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.

“He killed the woman I loved.” Ed declared, an angry twist to his lips. 

“LOVED! _REALLY_?”  Oswald sneered incredulously.  “You’d known her barely a week.”

“Well, they say the heart keeps its own time.”  Fish remarked, offhandedly.  Oswald shot her a look, scowling.  Ed smirked with a low chuckle.  “But what about loyalty, Ed?  Didn’t you feel you owed Oswald some?”  She asked, more pointedly.  Ed’s smiled faded, his teeth clenched.   Oswald was enthusiastically nodding in agreement, which teed Ed off even more.

“He lost my loyalty when he killed Isabella!”  Ed seethed.

“Isabella?  The clone?”  Fish asked, blinking in disbelief.  Oswald’s mouth dropped, as he turned to Fish.

“Isabelle—Isabella was a clone?”  Oswald asked, his eyes narrowed, and brow furrowed.  Fish nodded mutely, the wheels turning in her head.  “I KNEW IT!”  Oswald proclaimed triumphantly, grinning proudly.

“LIAR!” Ed retorted.  “You had no idea!”

“Neither one of you knew!”  Fish stated with amazement, the dawning revelation lighting her eyes with amusement. “That’s rich!  The Court’s plan worked, after all.”  She laughed.

“The Court’s plan?”  Oswald asked.

“Their plan to destroy your administration.”  Ed piped in.  “It worked because Isabella fooled us both.” Ed added, looking at the floor, crestfallen.

“She didn’t fool me.  I knew something about her wasn’t right.”  Oswald insisted smugly.  “I knew she was trouble.” Oswald reasserted hotly, giving Ed a hard look.

“Yeah, _right_.” Ed replied with a roll of his eyes. “Trouble to your romantic plans for _us_.”

“Stop it!  Both of you.”  Fish cut in.  “Your bickering only furthers the Court of Owl’s agenda.”

“What agenda?  What Court?  Hmph!  They’re all dead.”  Oswald said with a flip of his hand and a toss of his head.

“I doubt that.”  Fish said, pursing her lips.  Both men looked at her questioningly.  “That organization was the strongest and most insidious force in Gotham.  Even Carmine Falcone was under their thumb.  They’re probably licking their wounds and regrouping as we speak.”

“Regrouping for what?”  Oswald asked.

“To take back control of Gotham, of course.”  Ed answered confidently.  Fish nodded.

“Exactly.  And now that we’re consolidating underworld forces under our wing, we’ll be on their radar.”  Fish warned Oswald.

“I’ll be ready for them when they come.” Oswald replied, his eyes lively and his voice deadly.

“We need a plan.  The best defense is a good offense.”  Ed stated.

“ _We_?”  Oswald sneered, his eyebrows raised.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comment will make my week.


	4. When You Bring Something into Being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fish helps Oswald sort through the jumble of emotions he feels about Ed.

Chapter 4

 

“I want to make them pay for what they did to me.  To us.”  Ed declared solemnly.

“ _US_!  There is no us, Ed!”  Oswald said, lifting his gun and aiming it at Ed.

“Wait!”  Fish said, her hand clasping Oswald’s shoulder.  “Hear him out.”

“No, he can’t be trusted!”  Oswald wailed.

“True, but I still want to hear his plan.”  Fish said.  She turned to Ed.  “I assume you have a plan, right?”

“I do.”

“Well?”  Fish said with a beckoning sweep of her hand.  Ed stared at the gun pointed at his head, then he gazed into Oswald’s face.  

“When I told you, I would do anything for you Oswald, I meant it.”  Ed said, his expression serious and eyes piercing.  Oswald’s chest tightened, as he heard Ed repeat the words that once captured his heart. “I realize now, that forgiving you for being a jealous ass falls under that umbrella.”

“You’re forgiving _me_?  Gee, thanks.”  Oswald sneered sarcastically.  “What makes you think I need your forgiveness?” Oswald snarled, trying to steady the subtle tremble in his gun hand.  Feeling it grow worse, he lowered his arm.

“Because I need yours. Because it means getting vengeance on those most responsible for all the ugliness between us.  Do you really want them to get away with it, scot free?”

“It doesn’t matter.  They’re all dead.”

“I don’t think so.”

“And neither do I.”  Fish piped in.  “I say, go after them, before they come after us.”

“I agree.”  Ed said.

“And what makes you think you get a vote?  You’re a condemned man, _remember_?  Oswald taunted menacingly. “Remind me Fish.  Why is he still alive?”  Oswald jibed archly, pointing at Ed.  Fish merely chuckled softly in reply. 

“We fought the Court before and, together, we were victorious.  We can do it again.  We can come to a truce, like before, but longer this time.” Ed offered, his tone just shy of pleading.  A tone that hit Oswald like a punch to the gut.  _He’s begging me for another chance._   A corner of Oswald’s mind screamed, desperate to latch on to any chance for reconciliation.  _BUT YOU CAN’T TRUST HIM!_   The logical side of his brain shouted.

“I’ll think about it.”  Oswald answered gruffly, hurriedly turning away and heading for the stairs.  He knew staying would only end in him freeing Ed, despite his better judgement.  _Why can’t I stop loving him?_  Oswald berated himself, as he climbed the stairs. Fish’s eyes were sad, as she watched Oswald rush away; running from the one thing that might actually make him happy again.  She slowly shook her head, before turning back to Ed.  She saw the glint of moisture in Ed’s eyes, as he watched Oswald head upstairs.  Ed noticed her looking and quickly turned away, wiping his eyes.

“Don’t be ashamed of your tears.  It’s sorrow that allows us to appreciate joy, when we find it.”  She told him, her words soothing and warm.

“I had it, but I didn’t appreciate it.”  Ed mumbled, his voice low and shaky.  “I threw the real thing away for a cheap counterfeit version.”

“We all make mistakes.  What defines us is how well we learn from them.”

“You know, I’m beginning to understand why Oswald thinks so highly of you.”

“I think highly of him, too.”

“Even though he tried to kill you?”  Ed asked, doubtful.  Although his question was posed with disbelief, Fish felt the undercurrent of hope bubbling beneath the surface. 

“Yes, even though he tried to kill me.  You’ll be surprised what people can forgive…when they care enough.”

“Do you think Oswald can ever forgive me?”

“You’re not dead yet.  I’d take that as a good sign.  Now tell me about this plan you’ve got.”

  

Around noon, the following day, Oswald was eating breakfast and Fish strolled in.

“Good morning sleepyhead.”  Oswald said playfully.  “I was wondering when you were going to get up.”

“Well, you know a girl needs her beauty sleep.”  Fish answered, equally light-hearted, as took a seat beside him.  “Sooo, have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”  Oswald said nonchalantly, forking some eggs from his plate.  Fish didn’t answer, instead she cocked her head to the side and gave him a knowing smile.  Oswald knew what she was getting at and put down his fork, sighing loudly.

“ _Seriously_ , you want me to set that lunatic free?”  Oswald said, pulling a face.

“What do you want?”  Fish said softly, placing her hand on his.  Oswald looked at her, his face contorted by misery and self-doubt.

“I don’t know.”  He answered hopelessly.  “One minute I want to put a bullet between his eyes and the next, I want to pull him into my arms and never let go.”  He looked at Fish, his eyes begging for an answer.

“I understand how you feel.  I’ve been where you’re at.”

“Really?”  Oswald asked.  Fish chuckled softly.

“Don’t you remember the night under the bridge; the night I escaped from Arkham?”

“How could I forget.  I replayed that night in my mind a thousand times.  Asking myself, over and over again, why didn’t you kill me.”

“Then surely you remember the night in the woods, when I answered that question.”

“I’ll never forget that.”  Oswald said wistfully.  “You said turning me into the Penguin was the best thing you’ve ever done.  That it made me part of you, forever.”

“It did.”  Fish smiled, giving Oswald’s hand a warm squeeze.

“Ed said, he became the Riddler when he killed me.” 

“So, you brought him into being.”

 “I’m not as good as you are Fish.   I don’t think I can forgive him.” Oswald admitted forlornly.  “I told him I loved him, and he tried to kill me!”

“The critical word is tried.  I mean, if he’s s’pose to be so smart, how the hell did he fuck it up?”

“I would have died.  I was lucky Ivy found me.  And he would have killed me in the greenhouse, if not for your timely arrival.”

“Hmm, I wonder…”  Fish said pensively, as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“What’s to wonder?  HE HAD A GUN TO MY HEAD!”

“But he didn’t fire.  Instead he was talking about taking hours, days even, to deal with you.”

“Wh—what?  You heard that?”

“Of course.  You think I’d just rush in there, blind, not knowing what I was walking into?”  Fish pursed her lips and gave him a hard stare.  “Tell me, when’s the last time you put a gun to someone’s head and talked about taking hours or days to pull the trigger?”

“I told you he was a lunatic.”  Oswald said smugly, taking a bite from his toast.  As he chewed, a contemplative look came over his face.  He swallowed, turning to Fish.  “Wait, isn’t that like what I’m doing now, keeping him alive in that cell?”

“My point exactly.  I suspect he was just as conflicted then, as you are now, and that was before he discovered the truth about Isabella.”

“Do you think learning about Isabella has changed how he feels about me?”  Oswald asked hopefully.

“I’m not sure, but I know it’s got him second guessing himself and what he did.”  Fish took a sip of coffee, before continuing.  “By the way, he told me his plan for finding what’s left of the Court.”

“Oh God, I hope it doesn’t involve kidnapping the mayor or onstage murder again.”  Oswald smirked.

“I think he should tell it to you himself.  You know him far better than me and hearing him out might help you decide what you want to do.”

“Fine, if you insist.”  Oswald said sounding mildly annoyed, as he tried to ignore the fact that his heart was racing with a contrary mix of trepidation and anticipation.


	5. You Smell Like Puke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald visits Ed in his cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's so short, but hopefully I'll update again before the weekend's over. Warning - There's a bit of homophobia and non-con in here.

Chapter 5

 

Oswald caught himself nervously straightening his tie and smoothing his vest, as he made his way to the basement stairwell _.  Oh my God I’m preening_.  He realized, embarrassed, despite the fact that no one was around to see him.  _Oh well, I do that all the time, it’s nothing new, just a nervous tic._   He told himself.  _But why are you nervous?_ A tiny voice in his head squeaked.  This was a train of thought Oswald had no desire to ride and he quickly shifted his focus to navigating his way down the narrow stairway without falling and breaking his neck in the process.  As he neared the bottom step, Ed’s cell came into view.

“Ed!”  he cried, rushing down the final steps and hurrying toward the cell, where he saw Ed’s unmoving body sprawled on the floor.  As he got closer, the acrid smell of sour stomach acid assailed his nostrils.  He reached toward the bars to get a better look, stopping abruptly as he remembered the deadly current surging through them.  Getting as close as he dared, he peered inside.  Ed was lying, motionless, in a pool of his own vomit.  His face hidden from view by the black rubber commode, he laid beside _.  Did he fall out trying to make it to the toilet?_   Oswald anxiously speculated. _Does it matter!_   His mind screamed in response, as he quickly turned and made his way to the box on the wall containing the control panel for the cell.  He fumbled with his keys, cursing when they fell to the floor.  He promptly retrieved them, opening the box and franticly pushing the buttons on the panel.  The current shut off and he returned to the cell, pushing another series of buttons to disengage the lock.

He hurried into the cell, anxious to check Ed’s pulse.  _You’re not a doctor_.  His mind chided. _But_ _I need to see if_ —the thought ceased mid-stream, as his foot met the vomit on the slick granite floor and slid out from underneath him, both legs flying into the air. Catapulted backwards, he fell.  His head hit the granite with a solid thud and a flash of white light exploded behind his eyes.  Lying on the floor, disoriented, he groaned in pain.  He felt the air being knocked from his lungs, as Ed jumped atop him.  The taller man straddled him, pulling his arms above his head and pinning them to the floor.   Gasping for air, he looked up to see Ed grinning wickedly above him.

“You made that a lot easier than I thought it would be.” Ed told him with a dark laugh. Oswald bucked beneath him, attempting to squirm from his grasp.    Irrationally, he noticed Ed’s chest was bare, just as Ed tried to shove a balled-up sock into his mouth.  Oswald, noting Ed was holding both his wrists with one hand, snatched his arms away and delivered a jolting right hook to Ed’s jaw, followed by a swift left uppercut that Ed partially blocked. Ed winced, redoubling his efforts, re-taking hold of Oswald’s arms and trapping him against the floor.  Oswald spit out the sock and smiled, as he saw the blood trickling from the corner of Ed’s mouth and rolling down his chin.

“I knew I could count on you for a fight.”  Ed sneered, the bloody spittle falling from his mouth, landing on Oswald’s face. “So, you thought about it and decided to settle for your own little Ed clone, instead of the real thing?”  Ed snarled, as Oswald continued to angrily buck beneath him.

“Wh—what are you talking about?” Oswald sputtered, his breath coming in hard puffs as he continued to struggle.

“Strange came to my cell this morning.  He shot me with a tranquilizer gun and took my blood.”  Ed said, nodding his head toward the bright purple bruise blooming in the crook of his arm.  “He going to clone me!  For you!” Oswald stopped struggling, panting from exertion, he cast Ed a livid look.

“Are you sure he didn’t drug you, cause you sound like you’re high on something.”  Oswald challenged. “Why the hell would I want there to be two of you.  One of you is more trouble than you’re worth.”  Oswald felt Ed’s grip falter and renewed his efforts to escape.  Ed reacted immediately, bearing down on the smaller man’s body with everything he had.

“I don’t know.  A fucking pervert like you might want a sex slave or some other sick shit.”  Ed retorted, so angry that he used all the dirty words he could think of, as he felt himself being jostled by Oswald’s frantic struggles beneath him.  Oswald felt something and a wide a smile spread across his face.

“If I’m the fucking pervert, why are you the one with the massive hard on?”  Oswald jibed nastily, giving Ed’s crouch a hard pelvis bump.  Ed’s eyes widened in shock, as he looked down at the sturdy tent formed in his boxers.

“N—no!  It’s not like that!”  Ed cried, aghast, his hands hurriedly covering his crouch.  “It’s only an involuntary physical reaction to all your damn squirming around.”    Sensing his opening, Oswald grabbed Ed by the shoulders and pushed up with his legs, knocking Ed to the floor, straddling him, their positions abruptly reversed.

“Involuntary physical reaction, huh?”  Oswald taunted, slamming his crouch against Ed’s raging erection.

“NO PLEASE DON’T!”  Ed wailed pitifully, tears forming in his eyes.  Ed’s tears hit Oswald like a slap to the face. He stopped thrusting and swung his leg from around Ed, sitting on the floor beside the weeping man.  He pulled Ed into his arms and Ed buried his face in Oswald’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.

“I—I’m a dirty, filthy f—faggot, just like Father always said.”  Ed whimpered, his voice full of self-loathing.  “The sick, sinful dreams I had about you were bad enough, but now...  OH GOD WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!”  Ed shrieked, as he looked at Oswald with a tear-stained face.  Oswald stroked his hair, slowly rocking the distraught man.

“It’s okay Ed, you’re not dirty or filthy or sick.  Believe me, you’re not.”  Oswald pleaded softy.  Oswald thought it ironic that a man that would murder or torture without remorse, felt that being sexually attracted to a man was his greatest sin.  _The real sin is how cruelly some treat others just because they’re different._  Oswald thought, seeing Ed in such pain.  He’d thought he knew Ed, but now he realized he’d only known what Ed had been willing to share.  He finally understood why Ed had been so desperate to convince himself he loved Isabella.  Why he’d been so angry when Oswald had snatched her away.   At this moment, Oswald was having a hard time despising Ed for all the vicious things he’d done to him.

“C’mon, let get you upstairs for a shower and some clean clothes.”  Oswald urged, awkwardly getting to his feet, as he tried to pull Ed up with him.  He started to slip again, and Ed caught him, pulling his body closer to his.

“Hold on to me.  I’ll help you.” Ed offered, moving toward the door.  Once out of the cell, Ed let go, staying by his side.  “A shower and a change of clothes wouldn’t hurt you either.  You smell like puke.” Ed said, wrinkling his nose and smiling broadly.  Oswald did a double take at Ed’s abrupt change in demeanor, wondering.   _Oh God, did I just let this bastard con me again?_


	6. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed shares his plan with Oswald.

Chapter 6

 

Ed had a spring in his step, as he walked beside Oswald.  This was exactly what he wanted, and he was grinning from ear-to-ear.  He was proud of himself.  He’d punched all the right buttons and Oswald was putty in his hands.  Deep down inside Ed knew, every tear, every sob-choked word he’d shared in the cell with Oswald had come straight from his heart, but that was far too painful to admit, even to himself.   It was much more fun to think that he, The Riddler, has once again used his superior intellect to rule the day.

Oswald looked up at Ed’s shit eating grin and groaned inwardly.  Sometimes, he didn’t know what to make of Ed, but he was pretty sure that little scene in his cell hadn’t been faked.  He felt it in his bones.  Ed’s now cheery demeanor worried him.  Ed was obviously repressing a lot of unresolved inner pain and that could be dangerous, for them both.  _Maybe I should talk to Fish about this.  She’s a lot better with that touchie-feelie stuff, than me._  Oswald mused, as he and Ed reached the stairs.  _Well, speak of the devil._ He thought as Fish stepped out of the parlor to greet them.

“My my, what have you boys been up to?”  Fish crooned, her eyes bright, as she took in Ed, barefoot and naked save for his soggy boxers, and Oswald in his wet, rumpled suit and hair that resembled a disheveled mop.  “Looks like it was fun.  Shame I missed it.”  She said with a sly smile.

“We reached a truce.”  Ed exuberantly announced, throwing an arm around Oswald’s shoulder.  Oswald smiled wanly.

“We’re going to get cleaned up.  We won’t be long.”  Oswald told her with a heavy sigh.  Fish nodded, as the men made their way upstairs.  She watched them depart, biting her lip and thinking.  _Something’s not right._

 

Ed bounced up the stairs ahead of Oswald, reaching the top he shouted down.  “Where are my clothes?”

“In your room, in the closet.”  Oswald shouted up.  Ed grinned, hearing Oswald say ‘your room’, and opened the door.  His face dropped.  It didn’t look like his room at all.  The bed had been stripped, his personal effects had all been removed, even the framed posters he’d had on the wall were gone.  He opened the closet and the only things inside were the clothes he’d worn when captured.

“Good, you found them.” Oswald said, standing in the doorway.  Ed turned at his voice, a shell-shocked look on his face.

“Where’s my stuff?”  Ed asked, the accusatory tone of his voice unmistakable.

“ _Seriously_ , Ed?  What did you expect?”  Oswald responded with irritation.  “That I would preserve your room, untouched, like a shrine or something.”  He saw the hurt look on Ed’s face and softened his words.  “I assumed you took everything important to you, when you left.”

“You knew I loved my Star Trek collectibles.”  Ed’s voice was soft, almost child-like.  He was right; and for the first time, Oswald felt bad about throwing the entire collection in the patio’s firepit and setting it ablaze.  Especially when he recalled how he’d enjoyed basking in the heat of the bonfire it created.  On reflection, his actions seemed petty and childish.  _Wait, why am I feeling guilty.  He tried to kill me._

“We both lost things valuable to us.”  Oswald said with finality and left the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“I lost more!” Ed screamed at the closed door.  He was shaking with rage and sat down on the bare mattress, pounding his thigh with a fist.  Barely a second later, the bedroom door whooshed open.  Oswald charged in, getting all up in Ed’s face.

“YOU!  You lost more?  Are you delusional?”  Oswald screeched, poking Ed in the chest with a finger.  “I was the mayor!  The king of Gotham’s underworld!  Tell me, what did you lose?  And don’t you dare say Isabella.  Cause you can’t lose what you never had! ”  Oswald spat, his eyes ice blue daggers. 

“That was a low blow, even for you.”  Ed mumbled, refusing to face Oswald’s glare.   Oswald blew out a puff of air and plopped down next to Ed on the bed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.  She fooled me, too.”  Oswald admitted, his hand landing softly on Ed’s.  “I saved your old movie posters.  They’re downstairs.  I had them hung in the home theater, but we could bring them back up here.”

“Don’t bother.  That’s probably the best place for them; compliments the cinematic esthetic of the room.”  Ed conceded.  “I doubt I’ll be here long enough to warrant redecorating.”  Oswald’s lips tightened at Ed’s comment.  He slapped his thighs, turning to Ed.

“That reminds me.  You talked about a truce, but we never agreed to how long.”  Oswald said, his eyes roaming across the other man’s face.  

“Good point.  Did you have a timeframe in mind?”  Ed looked to Oswald for an answer.  Oswald stared at the wall, as he considered the question, his chin resting on a fisted hand.  He lowered his hand, turning back to Ed.

“Well, if the plan is to destroy the Court, our truce shouldn’t end until that’s done.”  Oswald was surprised by the confused look his response brought to Ed’s face.  “What, why are you looking like that?”

“Didn’t Fish tell you my plan?”  Ed asked, his brow furrowed.

“No, she suggested that I should hear it from you?  Why?”

“My plan isn’t to destroy the Court.  It’s to make you their new Grandmaster.”

“Me?”  Oswald asked, slapping a hand to his chest.  “Grandmaster of the Court?  I don’t get it.”  He said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Let me explain.”  Ed said, smiling, excitement bright in his eyes.  Oswald recognized that look and grinned at the memories it evoked.  “Before they captured me, I researched all lore I could find about them.  Based on what I found, the Court’s older than Gotham City, maybe older than the United States itself.  To have survived that long would have required sophisticated succession planning.  I believe membership in the Court is passed down to family members.”

“So, we need to find the descendants of the dead Court members.  I’ll bet Jim Gordon knows the names of the members that died.”

“Oh, I’ve already got that.  It was in the newspapers.”

“What about descendants?”

“I’ve already met one.”  Ed said teasingly.

“Really?  Who?”

“You.”  Ed answered, clapping his hands in delight.

“WHAT?”

“Yes, you’re related to Matthew Moody, who died with the other Court members.  I checked his obituary.  He didn’t have any living survivors, but it listed his deceased sister Sara Van Dahl, nee Moody, your grandmother.”

“I had a great-uncle?  I wonder why my father never mentioned it.  He told me I was his only living blood relative.  Maybe it was another Sara Van Dahl, not my grandmother.”

“It is kinda strange that he never told you, but I was able to verify that your grandmother’s maiden name was Moody.”

Okay, for argument sake, let’s say I’m Moody’s nephew.  How does that get to Grandmaster of the Court?”

“Oooh, that’s the most deviously delicious part.”  Ed crooned, as he stood up, making sweeping OK signs with his hands, his wide smile dazzling in its brilliance.  The tall man’s eyes twinkled with mischievous glee, as he unveiled his master plan with a flourish of animated flamboyance.  Oswald couldn’t help but grin unabashedly as he just sat back and enjoyed the show.  Captured in the waves of Ed’s contagious excitement, Oswald’s chest tightened with joy.  It was like old times, before all the lies, deceit, and ugliness between them.  Ed finished detailing his strategy, looking anxiously to Oswald.  “What do you think?”

“Brilliant!  Magnificent!  Pure Genius!”  Oswald exclaimed, rising and giving Ed a bid hug.  The closeness was comforting and Oswald didn't want to let go, but he felt the taller man’s entire body stiffen uncomfortably in the embrace. Oswald let go, stepping back.  “Sorry.”  He mumbled, staring down at Ed’s bare feet.  Ed placed a finger under his companion’s chin, gently lifting until Oswald met his sad gaze.

“Don’t be sorry Oswald, I enjoy your hugs.” Ed said.  “More than I should.”  He muttered, looking down to his boxers, shame-faced.  Oswald followed his gaze and was able to discern the semi-erection on display in his undies.  Oswald grabbed his biceps, giving him a shake.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ed.”  Oswald vehemently asserted, dismayed by the mortified look on Edward’s face.  “So what, you’re bisexual. Big deal.  When you think about it logically it makes perfect sense.”

“How could you say that.  It’s abnormal.”

“That’s my point.  You’re not some typical, ordinary guy.  When you encounter a problem, your brilliant mind sees a plethora of potential solutions the average joe wouldn’t even begin to contemplate.  You’re creative and able to think way outside the box.  Doesn’t it make sense that your mind would be equally open and fluid in its approach to sex?”  Oswald was basically just making it up as he went along, hoping by appealing to what Ed held most dear, his intellect, he might be able to reach him.  

“Can’t say I ever thought about it that way before.”  Ed said, sounding dubious.

“You’re not abnormal or normal.  You’re off the charts **above** normal.  Embrace that and stop beating yourself up for not fitting neatly into some boring square peg.”  Oswald explained, desperately hoping he was getting through to Ed. 

“I’ll try.”  Ed said doubtfully.  Oswald sighed loudly, Ed was obviously unconvinced.

“You do that.  Now go ahead, get cleaned up.  We can talk more later.”  Oswald said, walking out the door.   _This may take some time_.  He thought.  _But I’m not giving up._

Ed sat on bed a moment considering what Oswald had said.  On one level it made sense, but the years of conditioning, he had received at his father’s cruel hands made it hard to accept.  There was something frightening about the inner turmoil his relationship with the Oswald created.  _Maybe the best thing for me to do is leave.  Escape the situation and all the dark urges that come with it._   Ed wondered, walking to the closet and pulling out his suit.  He heard his phone buzzing.  He pulled it from his suitcoat and answered the call.

“Where the hell are you at!” Barbara screeched.                                                                                        

“I’m at Oswald’s.  Come get me.” Ed said, feeling like a coward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like more.


End file.
